Popular
by Kit Thespian
Summary: Parody Songfic, Popular from the musical Wicked. Sephiroth from FF7 decides to help Kefka from FF6 with his skills as a popular villain. Kefka couldn't be more horrified, and Sephiroth couldn't be more clueless.


**Disclaimer**: Kit Thespian does not own the Final Fantasy series or the characters therein, and she is not making money off of this. And she doesn't own any of the other famous villains mentioned in this fic. And she doesn't own the songs in "Wicked" either; those belong to Stephen Schwartz. May he live long and prosper.

**Popular**

**A strange tale by**

**Kit Thespian**

"_Oh, no, here he comes again,"_ Kefka thought as he made a hundred-eighty degree turn to hopefully escape the oncoming annoyance. Other than flirting with Ultimecia and Queen Zeal, he hated these villain conferences, and the rules that came with them. You couldn't use your powers or brute strength to do any harm to any of your fellow villains. Well, if there was _any_ villain, _anywhere, anytime_, that Kefka wanted to hurt more than _anything_, it was…

"Where are you going, Kefka?" Sephiroth approached the colorfully-robed felon.

"…To get some punch; my throat is dry," Kefka arrogantly answered, with his chin held high.

"I just wanted to thank you for bailing me out back there."

"…No problem." Really, Kefka had not wanted to "bail out" his rival at all. But, he had wanted to maintain the integrity of Final Fantasy villains more than he wanted to humiliate Sephiroth. All of the villains had been sitting in conference, and Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars had spoken out fiercely against the credibility of the villains in the Final Fantasy series. Of course, the most _famous_ of all Final Fantasy villains was Sephiroth, so naturally they picked him to…well…pick on. Sephiroth was never the brightest tool in the villain shed, so he wasn't really putting up a good defense. Jenova wasn't any help; in her eyes, Sephiroth could do no wrong. As intelligent as they were, Hojo and Rufus Shinra were slowly sinking into their seats with embarrassment, too mortified to do anything. The Turks were playing "Before Crisis" on their cell phones, completely unawares. Kadajwondered why on earth Mother choose Sephiroth instead of him, Yazoo only stared with his jaw gaping, and Loz looked like he was about to cry. In short, none of the FF7 villains were willing to defend their figurehead. Fortunately for the sake of the sacred Final Fantasy series, Kefka and Ultimecia rose and gave their villain testimonies, making the Star Wars bums shut their traps once and for all. And it was a good thing too. It had looked like Kuja and Seifer (_spoiled brats,_ Kefka thought) were going to pick a fight if the debate didn't end soon.

"I've noticed something…" Sephiroth said. Kefka thought it amazing that the silver-haired SOLDIER could notice anything at all. Sephiroth continued, "…You just don't get that much attention, do you?"

Kefka rolled his eyes. True, he didn't have the fan base that Sephiroth possessed, but that hardly bothered him. _Real_ villains didn't need huge fan bases. _Real_ villains were feared and hated, not lauded. And _real_ villains didn't have mommy complexes with octopuses, but Kefka thought that this statement would probably go over Sephiroth's head. He didn't say anything.

Sephiroth went on, taking the surprised Kefka by the arm and dragging him out of the reception room, "So, I've decided to help you out!"

Due to a horrible mistake, a mistake that Kefka was going to make someone pay for eventually, he and Sephiroth had been put in the same hotel room together. It had been endurable so far, since the two keep different hours and hardly saw each other, but now Sephiroth hauled the clownish villain up to the room to have some more privacy. Now, Kefka _knew_ that Sephiroth wasn't…well…steering in the wrong direction (he had seen Sephiroth throw enough dollar bills at female exotic dancers to get that impression), but he was a bit concerned as to what the FF7 megalomaniac meant by "helping."

Once they were in the room, Sephiroth sat Kefka in front of the mirror.

"Now, look at yourself," Sephiroth began, "we definitely have a problem here."

Kefka looked at his reflection. It was as ghastly as ever. His ceremonial makeup was flawless, as usual.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, "I always look like this."

"Exactly! This is not the kind of face that _popular_ villains have. I'm going to change your status, Kefka. Soon, your fan base will explode!"

"Uh…" Kefka now fully realized what all this was coming to; he tried to get up out of the chair, "you really don't have to do that."

"I know," Sephiroth pushed him back down.

Kefka then heard some music start in the background.

"_He's going to sing, isn't he_?" Kefka thought.

Sometimes, Kefka hated being right.

"_Whenever I see someone less villainous than I.  
__And let's face it,"_ Sephiroth grinned, "_Who isn't  
__Less villainous than I?  
__My blackened heart tends to start to bleed._

_And when a villain's on the shelf  
__I have to take upon myself  
__To see that he or she gets up to speed._

_And even with your face…"_ Sephiroth winced,  
"_Though it looks like it's from outer space.  
__Don't worry, I'm determined to succeed.  
__Follow my lead…  
__And yes, indeed…you…will…be…_

_Popular…You're gonna be popu-ular  
__You'll get a manly poise  
__And deepen your voice  
__And in the process make girls swoon._

_I'll show you what clothes to wear  
__How to fling your hair.  
__All the things you have to do to be_

_Popular…I'll help you be popu-ular.  
__I'll show you the proper grin  
__When you commit a sin  
__And all the lines you need to know._

_Let's start, 'cuz you've got an awfully long way to go…"_

Sephiroth pulled out Kefka's hair bands and got out his own brush. Kefka didn't want to suffer anymore of this humiliation (or Sephiroth's singing for that matter), but as of this moment, Sephiroth had a decent grip on Kefka's hair. Sudden movement would be unwise. As for Sephiroth, he carried on singing.

"_Don't be offended when I seem discourteous.  
__But you look like a reject from a three-ring cir-ceous  
__Your robes remind me of a drag queen's hand-me-downs.  
__I'm glad that I'm here  
__in order to help you steer  
__towards_

_Popular…I know about popu-ular  
__And with some help from me  
__To be who you'll be  
__Instead of freaky who-you-were..._Well, _are_.  
_There's nothing to stop you  
__From becoming populer…lar."_

Sephiroth seemed like he was having too much fun with this.

"_Laaaa, laaaa. Laaaa, laaaa.  
__I'm gonna help ya be pop…u…lar."_

Sephiroth paused in his singing, "Now, the appearance is one thing, but now we gotta work on _you_. First, you need a good, tragic past."

Kefka started, "But I don't _want_ a tragic past!"

"Nonsense! All popular villains have some sympathy! And the only way you're going to get sympathy is if you have a pathetic sob story. Take mine, for instance. My parents had me infused with Jenova cells when I still an unborn baby, then I was raised in a laboratory, and then I thought that I was a monster created from Jenova cells and that Jenova was my mommy and nobody was ever smart enough to tell me otherwise! Now, isn't that _sad_?"

"It sure is…" Kefka flatly spoke. Sephiroth, of course, missed the true meaning behind that statement.

"There you have it!" Sephiroth grinned, "Now, let's see, what can we come up for _you_? Hey, I know! Let's say that when you were little, your parents sold you to Emperor Gestahl as a…"

"Can we skip the sob story for now?" Kefka asked, hoping Sephiroth would forget about it if they quit talking about it.

"Well, okay…but about your wardrobe…I'm sure I've got something extra stashed away here somewhere…" As he milled about looking for another black trench coat, he sang some more.

"_When I see unheard of bad guys  
__Become moping, weeping sad guys  
__I remind them on their own behalf  
__To…think…of_

_Celebrated fiction villains  
__Like Darth Vader or Dr. Evil  
__Were they really all that vicious?  
__Don't make me laugh!_

_They were **popular  
**_Please!  
_It's all about popu-ular.  
__It's not about being mean  
__It's the way you're seen.  
__That's why it's very shrewd to be  
__Very, very popular, like **me**!_"

Sephiroth made a grand gesture to signal that he was done, "Now, Mr. Kefka. Look at yourself. Don't you look _villainous_?"

Kefka stared at himself in the mirror with untouched horror. His hair was down and combed, with suspiciously familiar teased bangs in the front. All of his precious makeup was rubbed off. And his robe had been replaced with a black trench coat. All in all, he looked okay. But to Kefka, looking okay was definitely _not_ okay. In fact, he looked a lot like...

"Um…I have to go." And Kefka fled out the hotel window (which thankfully, had been open) as fast as his four wings could take him.

Sephiroth was unsure as to why his roommate had reacted this way. He said, a little sarcastically, "You're welcome."

"_And though you don't seem  
__To be very keen.  
__I know that secretly…_

_You're gonna grin and bear it,  
__Your newfound popularity!_"

Sephiroth laughed maniacally at the thought, and then went on, looking at himself in the mirror.

"_Laaaa, laaaa. Laaaa, laaaa.  
__You're gonna be popular.  
__Just not quite as popular…as…MEEEEE!"_

**The End!**


End file.
